Chapter Eleven:
When Moody had said that they needed to "finish" Voldemort, she had been too drained from her role in taking care of the desk's wards to apply his comment to more than just the immediate task. The larger picture hadn't clarified for her until the Horcrux was located within the desk and destroyed, curtsey of the spell Dumbledore had perfected over the previous summer. The fact that her magical exhaustion had worn off by that point also helped. Even when she was still worn and tired, however, a clearer picture in her head of exactly where they were going had improved her mood. Knowing how close they had come to reaching their goals she had found it easier to bear the weeks that followed, during which she had seen the return of classes and the retreat of useful memories.
Still, even considering the lack of recent insights or revelations, she was optimistic. Tom would be defeated, his remaining Horcrux would be found and destroyed, and she would use the lingering taint of one of them in order to do so; even if it meant following a course of action that made little to no sense to her at the moment.
"But I thought you said a pensive wouldn't work?"
"Indeed I did. The use of a pensive to explore the memories you carry would be a rather pointless endeavor as their content would be disjointed and nearly entirely one-dimensional. For lack of a better term, they would be hollow, and therefore of no use to us."
Russet brows furrowed slightly under his gaze. "But why exactly?"
The former Headmaster fixed her with a tired but patient gaze. "Without the accompanying emotional imprints you experience and the insight gained from your previous encounters with the diary, Miss Weasley, I am afraid I would be able to make neither heads, nor tails, of the memories Tom left in your mind."
"But," she shook her head slightly in confusion, "pensives don't usually include emotions, do they? I mean, Harry didn't ever say anything to the others about being able to feel what you experienced in your memories."
"That is correct, but as these memories were not yours to start with, your subconscious magic would not fill in the gaps without his feelings and your other insights to complete the images when creating your pensive. In addition, your mind acts as a sort of pensive for the diary to start with, so in transferring it to this one, some of the basic form would be lost."
Ginny nodded slightly, though traces of confusion still lingered on her features. "So why are we using a pensive if it won't work?"
"The pensive will not work on Tom's memories, but it is not those memories which we will be viewing tonight; it is mine," the elderly wizard intoned as he placed the tip of his wand to his temple and proceeded to draw a thin strand of silver memory from his own mind. Placing the strand into the bowl of the pensive, he sent the young witch an encouraging smile. "From our experience thus far it would seem that Tom's memories are often triggered by the sight or sound of similar or related information. I believe that I may be in possession of such a memory as would serve this purpose."
"Voldemort's snake, right? That's what you think holds the sixth Horcrux, isn't it?"
"That is my opinion, yes, but I would still like to have conformation of my hypothesis by a reliable source."
The look he sent her caused a sense of self-consciousness to rise in her chest. Having the most respected wizard of the age even indirectly say that he valued her opinion, that he trusted it as much as his own, even if it was because of the effect of Riddle's diary, was a bit of a shock to the system.
Not knowing exactly what to say in response, the youngest Weasley simply nodded and took a step towards the bowl. She hesitated before touching the iridescent surface, looking towards him in inquiry. He shook his head before she had a chance to ask the question forming on her lips.
"You may well make more useful observations without my being there to color your interpretations."
Nodding again, this time with a little less certainty, the redhead slowly lifted her arm and reached out, sucking in a breath as her fingers made contact and she was pulled into yet another foreign memory.
She had expected to find herself in the middle of an encounter with Death Eaters or Voldemort himself, had in fact prepared herself for such an experience, so it took her several moments to orient herself in the unexpected surroundings. Once she had taken in the brightly lit room, she realized where Dumbledore must have been when making this particular memory. Though she had never been to one herself, she recognized the description Harry had given to her brother when he had spoken of his trip with his relatives to the Muggle zoo. The scenery was remarkably similar to what Harry had talked about, mostly because it was the same place; perhaps not the same zoo, but certainly the same exhibit.
The reptile house.
Brown eyes blinked and cast about the gray landscape of glass enclosures, which she could see the white-haired man in front of her examining with poorly concealed fascination. He reminded her somewhat of her own father when faced with a new Muggle trinket, though she had to admit that Dumbledore was able to blend much more effectively with the Muggle crowd than Arthur Weasley could have ever managed to do. The one-time professor's taste in Muggle clothing was not what she was there to see, however, so she turned her attention to the matter at hand.
Since he'd thought that he knew something that would help her remember, she assumed that whatever that was would be something he knew he'd seen or heard and so focused on where the disguised wizard was headed. It took little concentration for her deduce exactly where he was going, or why he had chosen this memory for her to see. He was headed over to look at the snakes.
Ginny shook her head. She knew the Dark Lord's snake was the most likely Horcrux, she knew he wanted her to look at various snakes to see if maybe one of them might make her remember, but although she had known this before entering his memory, although she had come into it without question or hesitation, she doubted that it would do all that much good. She'd been thinking about snakes, picturing snakes, had even spent some time drawing various images of snakes in the hope of triggering something. It hadn't worked.
Yet she didn't leave her colorless location, but instead followed the black-and-white Dumbledore and proceeded to look carefully and intently at every slithery, scaly occupant of the unknown zoo. She continued to trail him for what felt like half an hour or so before she began to consider pulling herself from the elder wizard's memory. Still, she resisted the urge, knowing that if she left now, she would always wonder if she'd stayed, whether or not she could have seen or remembered something. So she stayed, and several minutes later, after they had rounded the tiled path a third time and started back through the exhibit, something caught her eye.
It wasn't so much the snake itself, as it was the aura that hung thick and rancid around its long body. It was a fairly average sized animal with the normal coloring and markings expected from its breed, but she could tell by the way the other patrons avoided approaching, or even looking at that one cage, that it was different from the others being housed around it. She knew it wasn't Tom's snake, she knew it was simply a regular snake that for whatever reason, had its own evil, but despite the lack of emotional imprint within the memory, a chill still skittered down her spine and she knew as the snake glanced casually in her direction that this was what her mentor wanted her to see.
If she had ever remembered standing before a mirror as Tom, she was sure that the sight that would greet her would be exactly what she saw in the once sparkling-eyed wizard's pensive. It was the eyes that forced the air momentarily from her lungs and nearly caused her to stumble backwards as the other memory slammed into her.
It was little more than a flash, the image of a huge snake with cold, cold eyes standing before her as she glanced down at the Dark Mark she had traced in the air with her wand and made a series of hissing noises that created a transparent wall between herself and the reptile. As the foreign but familiar sight faded she was left with a sensation of loss and longing that overlay the resolve to do what she had to do, even if it meant leaving her closest confidant alone.
The emotions throbbed in her head, making it hard to catch her breath as the redhead yanked herself back to the present and woke to the sight of two worried faces hovering above her own.
"Miss Weasley, are you all right?"
She nodded, ignoring the stiffness in her neck and made herself focus on the more grizzled of the two wizards, wanting to say her piece without being interrupted by concerned questions. For all that they had developed something almost approaching a friendship in the past months, she knew Moody would ask for details first, and her condition second, which was exactly what she needed at the moment.
"He locked it up. He used some kind of a warding spell, but not one I've heard before; certainly not one he ever taught me. He cast it in Parseltongue so I don't know the incantation, but I think it's supposed to key some kind of a lock or restrict entrance so that only someone with, or accompanying someone with, a Dark Mark can get in."
Neither wizard made any attempt at a response for several minutes, but simply sat and stared thoughtfully at her, at each other, or at nothing at all. Then, suddenly, Dumbledore broke the silence.
"There is no other way, Alastor. If such a restriction blocks Nagini's hiding place, then we have no other choice. He is our only way in."
The former Auror made a loud noise that sounded distinctly like a growl as he spun away from the older wizard and began pacing the room.
"It's a bad idea, Albus. It's dangerous and bloody stupid, and-"
Dumbledore raised his good hand, cutting the tirade off completely. The men's gazes locked and held until a silent decision was reached and the younger turned to Ginny with a dark scowl.
"Come on then, girl, it seems you've got somewhere to be."
End Chapter Eleven
When Moody had said that they needed to "finish" Voldemort, she had been too drained from her role in taking care of the desk's wards to apply his comment to more than just the immediate task. The larger picture hadn't clarified for her until the Horcrux was located within the desk and destroyed, curtsey of the spell Dumbledore had perfected over the previous summer. The fact that her magical exhaustion had worn off by that point also helped. Even when she was still worn and tired, however, a clearer picture in her head of exactly where they were going had improved her mood. Knowing how close they had come to reaching their goals she had found it easier to bear the weeks that followed, during which she had seen the return of classes and the retreat of useful memories.
Still, even considering the lack of recent insights or revelations, she was optimistic. Tom would be defeated, his remaining Horcrux would be found and destroyed, and she would use the lingering taint of one of them in order to do so; even if it meant following a course of action that made little to no sense to her at the moment.
"But I thought you said a pensive wouldn't work?"
"Indeed I did. The use of a pensive to explore the memories you carry would be a rather pointless endeavor as their content would be disjointed and nearly entirely one-dimensional. For lack of a better term, they would be hollow, and therefore of no use to us."
Russet brows furrowed slightly under his gaze. "But why exactly?"
The former Headmaster fixed her with a tired but patient gaze. "Without the accompanying emotional imprints you experience and the insight gained from your previous encounters with the diary, Miss Weasley, I am afraid I would be able to make neither heads, nor tails, of the memories Tom left in your mind."
"But," she shook her head slightly in confusion, "pensives don't usually include emotions, do they? I mean, Harry didn't ever say anything to the others about being able to feel what you experienced in your memories."
"That is correct, but as these memories were not yours to start with, your subconscious magic would not fill in the gaps without his feelings and your other insights to complete the images when creating your pensive. In addition, your mind acts as a sort of pensive for the diary to start with, so in transferring it to this one, some of the basic form would be lost."
Ginny nodded slightly, though traces of confusion still lingered on her features. "So why are we using a pensive if it won't work?"
"The pensive will not work on Tom's memories, but it is not those memories which we will be viewing tonight; it is mine," the elderly wizard intoned as he placed the tip of his wand to his temple and proceeded to draw a thin strand of silver memory from his own mind. Placing the strand into the bowl of the pensive, he sent the young witch an encouraging smile. "From our experience thus far it would seem that Tom's memories are often triggered by the sight or sound of similar or related information. I believe that I may be in possession of such a memory as would serve this purpose."
"Voldemort's snake, right? That's what you think holds the sixth Horcrux, isn't it?"
"That is my opinion, yes, but I would still like to have conformation of my hypothesis by a reliable source."
The look he sent her caused a sense of self-consciousness to rise in her chest. Having the most respected wizard of the age even indirectly say that he valued her opinion, that he trusted it as much as his own, even if it was because of the effect of Riddle's diary, was a bit of a shock to the system.
Not knowing exactly what to say in response, the youngest Weasley simply nodded and took a step towards the bowl. She hesitated before touching the iridescent surface, looking towards him in inquiry. He shook his head before she had a chance to ask the question forming on her lips.
"You may well make more useful observations without my being there to color your interpretations."
Nodding again, this time with a little less certainty, the redhead slowly lifted her arm and reached out, sucking in a breath as her fingers made contact and she was pulled into yet another foreign memory.
She had expected to find herself in the middle of an encounter with Death Eaters or Voldemort himself, had in fact prepared herself for such an experience, so it took her several moments to orient herself in the unexpected surroundings. Once she had taken in the brightly lit room, she realized where Dumbledore must have been when making this particular memory. Though she had never been to one herself, she recognized the description Harry had given to her brother when he had spoken of his trip with his relatives to the Muggle zoo. The scenery was remarkably similar to what Harry had talked about, mostly because it was the same place; perhaps not the same zoo, but certainly the same exhibit.
The reptile house.
Brown eyes blinked and cast about the gray landscape of glass enclosures, which she could see the white-haired man in front of her examining with poorly concealed fascination. He reminded her somewhat of her own father when faced with a new Muggle trinket, though she had to admit that Dumbledore was able to blend much more effectively with the Muggle crowd than Arthur Weasley could have ever managed to do. The one-time professor's taste in Muggle clothing was not what she was there to see, however, so she turned her attention to the matter at hand.
Since he'd thought that he knew something that would help her remember, she assumed that whatever that was would be something he knew he'd seen or heard and so focused on where the disguised wizard was headed. It took little concentration for her deduce exactly where he was going, or why he had chosen this memory for her to see. He was headed over to look at the snakes.
Ginny shook her head. She knew the Dark Lord's snake was the most likely Horcrux, she knew he wanted her to look at various snakes to see if maybe one of them might make her remember, but although she had known this before entering his memory, although she had come into it without question or hesitation, she doubted that it would do all that much good. She'd been thinking about snakes, picturing snakes, had even spent some time drawing various images of snakes in the hope of triggering something. It hadn't worked.
Yet she didn't leave her colorless location, but instead followed the black-and-white Dumbledore and proceeded to look carefully and intently at every slithery, scaly occupant of the unknown zoo. She continued to trail him for what felt like half an hour or so before she began to consider pulling herself from the elder wizard's memory. Still, she resisted the urge, knowing that if she left now, she would always wonder if she'd stayed, whether or not she could have seen or remembered something. So she stayed, and several minutes later, after they had rounded the tiled path a third time and started back through the exhibit, something caught her eye.
It wasn't so much the snake itself, as it was the aura that hung thick and rancid around its long body. It was a fairly average sized animal with the normal coloring and markings expected from its breed, but she could tell by the way the other patrons avoided approaching, or even looking at that one cage, that it was different from the others being housed around it. She knew it wasn't Tom's snake, she knew it was simply a regular snake that for whatever reason, had its own evil, but despite the lack of emotional imprint within the memory, a chill still skittered down her spine and she knew as the snake glanced casually in her direction that this was what her mentor wanted her to see.
If she had ever remembered standing before a mirror as Tom, she was sure that the sight that would greet her would be exactly what she saw in the once sparkling-eyed wizard's pensive. It was the eyes that forced the air momentarily from her lungs and nearly caused her to stumble backwards as the other memory slammed into her.
It was little more than a flash, the image of a huge snake with cold, cold eyes standing before her as she glanced down at the Dark Mark she had traced in the air with her wand and made a series of hissing noises that created a transparent wall between herself and the reptile. As the foreign but familiar sight faded she was left with a sensation of loss and longing that overlay the resolve to do what she had to do, even if it meant leaving her closest confidant alone.
The emotions throbbed in her head, making it hard to catch her breath as the redhead yanked herself back to the present and woke to the sight of two worried faces hovering above her own.
"Miss Weasley, are you all right?"
She nodded, ignoring the stiffness in her neck and made herself focus on the more grizzled of the two wizards, wanting to say her piece without being interrupted by concerned questions. For all that they had developed something almost approaching a friendship in the past months, she knew Moody would ask for details first, and her condition second, which was exactly what she needed at the moment.
"He locked it up. He used some kind of a warding spell, but not one I've heard before; certainly not one he ever taught me. He cast it in Parseltongue so I don't know the incantation, but I think it's supposed to key some kind of a lock or restrict entrance so that only someone with, or accompanying someone with, a Dark Mark can get in."
Neither wizard made any attempt at a response for several minutes, but simply sat and stared thoughtfully at her, at each other, or at nothing at all. Then, suddenly, Dumbledore broke the silence.
"There is no other way, Alastor. If such a restriction blocks Nagini's hiding place, then we have no other choice. He is our only way in."
The former Auror made a loud noise that sounded distinctly like a growl as he spun away from the older wizard and began pacing the room.
"It's a bad idea, Albus. It's dangerous and bloody stupid, and-"
Dumbledore raised his good hand, cutting the tirade off completely. The men's gazes locked and held until a silent decision was reached and the younger turned to Ginny with a dark scowl.
"Come on then, girl, it seems you've got somewhere to be."
End Chapter Eleven
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